


the lights turn on

by lauraxtennant



Series: Ten/Rose Collection 2015 [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 14:27:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5130971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lauraxtennant/pseuds/lauraxtennant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and Rose spend an evening star-gazing by the sea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the lights turn on

“It’s beautiful,” Rose murmured, staring up at the night sky. They were at the seaside, only a couple of hours from London, her time, and it was late.

The Doctor was propped up on his elbows on the sand. “Knew you’d like it,” he said softly. He glanced down at her, where she was spread out on his coat. “Light pollution, in London - means you never get to see the stars properly.”

“Yeah.”

When his eyes returned to the sky, he smiled, because he could hear and feel her shuffling a tad closer to him.

“Doctor?”

“Mmm?”

“Thanks. Sort of needed this. A bit of a break.” She raised herself up on her elbows, too, coming even closer with the movement, and now she was pressed all along his side. It was ridiculous, it really was, how his smile widened further and he couldn’t seem to rein it in.

“You don’t think that’s…I dunno. Weak, or something, do you?” she continued, and he turned his head to meet her concerned gaze. At his frown, she persisted, “I mean, it was nothing out of the ordinary, really, was it? But it’s kind of…” she trailed off.

“Rose. I understand.” He blew out a breath and lowered himself down, resting completely on his back. “Believe me, it affected me too.”

He listened to her sigh in relief and he frowned again, reaching out for her and tugging her down next to him.

“I’d never judge you for needing a few quiet moments after a tough couple of days. It’s only natural.” Linking their fingers together, he brought their joined hands to rest on his chest.

“Thanks,” she whispered.

“I for one was terrified,” he admitted, then sniffed. “You, er. You lost your face, Rose. There’s nothing ordinary about that. Your jittery behaviour since is completely justified.”

“I’ve been jittery?”

“A little.”

“Oh.”

“It’s not even been thirty six hours since it happened. Jittery is allowed,” he said, hoping to reassure her.

“I did -” She stopped.

“Did what?”

“After it happened, straight after, when we were at the street party. I did have fun. I didn’t really want to think about what had just happened so I liked the distraction, and you - well, thank you. For, you know, dancing and having a laugh and all that.”

He squeezed her hand. “You’re welcome. But it was as much for my own benefit as yours.”

After a minute or so in silence, Rose asked, “Do you think we could try again for Elvis, someday? It sounded like it would be great. The concert.”

“Of course. You name the date, Rose Tyler.”

“Thank you. How comes you got that wrong again, by the way?”

He looked at her.

“What?” she said, giggling. “Just wanna know why my driver keeps messing up the landings.”

“That’s pilot, and thanks for making me sound like a glorified space chauffeur,” he huffed, but his lips were twitching.

“It’s just, lately you’ve not been very precise. I mean, you’ve never been _that_ good -”

“Oi!”

“Twelve months!”

“I used to be an excellent pilot until you came on board,” he grumbled.

“You liar,” Rose laughed. Then, she leant in close as if she was going to impart a secret. “You didn’t pass your driving test, did you?”

He leant in, too, and whispered, “I stole the TARDIS. What does that tell you?”

She giggled again and their noses brushed briefly, they were so close. He raised his eyebrows and they both tilted their heads back to a safer distance.

They were alone on the beach, and it was making him reckless. He wasn’t about to relinquish the clasp of her hand, but he certainly shouldn’t be doing things like leaning in and nuzzling Rose Tyler’s nose.

“1879 instead of 1979, London instead of New York - ”

He groaned. “Are you ever gonna let this go?”

“Depends.”

“On…?”

“How well you make it up to me.” She grinned. “That’s two concerts you owe me, so far. Plus, I dunno, some other sort of compensation.”

“I dread to think.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “It goes without saying that you’re dancing at both. You would’ve done that anyway, so.”

“Nah, I’m afraid I’ve filled my dancing quota for the year,” he said ruefully, shaking his head.

“Oh, well,” she replied airily, as if it didn’t matter to her, “Suppose I’ll just have to find a different fella to jive with.”

“I doubt you’d be jiving at an Ian Dury concert.”

“Maybe I’ll jive with Elvis himself,” she mused, clearly pretending to ignore him.

“Fine, fine, I’ll do it. I’ll abandon all hope of dignity and resign myself to it.”

“You’re all right, I’ve got quite keen on the idea of dancing with Elvis now - ”

“You won’t when you get a look at him. We’re heading for his, let’s say, later years.”

Rose gave a wistful sigh. “You’re no fun.” Then he saw her tilt her head in his peripheral vision. “No, hold on, you said before that we’re gonna see him in the ‘50s - that’s the whole point! The dress, remember!”

“Changed my mind.”

“Nooo, no, you can’t! That dress - I was _born_ to jive in that dress.”

“You did your fair share of that before.”

“Pffft, you haven’t seen the half of it. Could hardly go for it properly with all those old people around!”

He looked at her curiously. “Do you really know how to jive properly?”

Rose nodded. “Tried to teach you, once, if you remember. Did a bit in school.”

The Doctor let out a whistle. “I dunno, gymnastics, dancing, choir - any after school clubs you didn’t go to?”

“Those were lunchtime clubs, actually, and they were the only reasons I’d wanna go into school, some days.”

“Right little performer, aren’t you?” He grinned. “Sure you didn’t miss your calling on the stage?”

Rose pulled a face. “Nah, I’d never be able to handle the rejection at auditions.”

Smirking, he thought about how Rose would probably march right up to a casting director and announce he was making a huge mistake by not giving her a part.

“What are you snickering about?”

“Just imagining you in _My Fair Lady._ ”

“Git,” she said, through a laugh, lightly whacking him with their joined hands. Then she muttered, “I was thinking more like _Chicago._ ”

He chuckled.

“What?” she said defensively.

“Nothing. That’s where we ought to go next, though.”

“Chicago?”

“Well, could do. But I was just thinking 1920s in general. Could add a Charleston string to your bow, eh?” he said, nudging her with his elbow.

“You just wanna see me in a flapper dress.”

He made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, but couldn’t bring himself to deny it outright. It _had_ been exactly his first thought, after all.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence for a few minutes. Rose shivered after a while and let go of his hand to zip up her jacket. He tried not to be too pathetic about the fact that she didn’t take his hand right back, and slipped his into his pocket to avoid grabbing hers again too quickly to seem casual.

Rose laughed quietly to herself thirty seconds later.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. Thinking about the things we get up to, me and you.”

He arched an eyebrow.

“Dancing and stargazing…”

“What about it?”

“It’s just.” She rolled onto her side to face him. “Mickey and Jimmy, right? Most romantic thing they ever did was buy me chocolates on Valentine’s Day. Or, well…Jimmy took me to a gig of one of my favourite bands for my birthday, which was pretty nice. ‘Til I saw him snogging Lisa from Tesco’s out the back when he was supposed to be getting us drinks.” She narrowed her eyes at the memory.

The Doctor winced. “Bad move, Jimmy.”

“Right? What a dick.” Rose laughed. “And Mickey, he once tried to make me dinner, said I deserved a treat. Ended up giving himself food poisoning! He spent the whole night in the loo!”

“Mickey the Idiot,” the Doctor said, grinning. Then, he raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t get ill, too?”

“Nah, I took one look at the food and knew it was gonna be terrible. Sort of just pushed it around my plate with a fork, pretending to eat it.”

“Good job, too,” he remarked.

“Yep. Anyway.” She shrugged a shoulder. “Just think it’s funny, sometimes, how you can do something like this when we’re not even…well, you know. When they couldn’t. They could’ve - not like Margate is a world away for either of them. Suppose I could’ve done something, too. Not all down to them, after all. But we never did.” Rose rolled onto her back with a wistful sigh. “Romance has never really been…well, in my life at all, actually. And I know this isn’t - it’s not - ” She shook her head. “I know you don’t intend for stuff like this to feel like it, but…it does, all the same. Sometimes. I dunno, I’m being daft.” She rushed the last part out, her breath hitching afterwards, as though wary of what he’d say in response.

Hesitant to voice a response at all, the Doctor remained silent for a moment, then cleared his throat. “Blimey, you must have low standards if you think me bringing you to _Margate_ is romantic.”

“Dunno,” she said thoughtfully, tilting her head to look at the sky again, “Fish and chips on the beach, watching the stars…don’t matter where it is, here, or a thousand million light years away. Still sort of a perfect date.” She rolled her head towards him with a wry smile. “Even if it isn’t an actual date. You know?” He smiled at her and her eyes softened. “Or maybe it’s just the company.”

At that, he chuckled. “Because I am universe-renowned for my romantic attributes.”

“You could be,” she retorted. “How would I know?”

He reached for her hand without looking, and laced their fingers together again, feeling the throb of her pulse where her wrist pressed against his. She looked so calm, but her heart was racing, and it made him feel a little better about the fact that his were nearly leaping out of his ribcage.

“I’m not.”

“Yeah,” she said quietly.

“I…” He paused, wetting his top lip as he tried to find the right words. “This isn’t really very romantic, Rose. Not relatively-speaking.”

She frowned, then schooled her features quickly so that she didn’t look so hurt, and he kicked himself for not saying what he really meant.

“I just mean - for Mickey or Jimmy or whatever other human bloke. Going for chips on the beach of an evening. Sure. Sounds lovely.”

“It _is_ lovely,” she insisted, then bit her lip.

“It is,” he agreed. He swallowed hard, steeling himself. “But, um. I could - I could take you anywhere, you see. Great big universe full of much more stunning locations, with a nicer, er, ambiance. Twelve star restaurants overlooking the celestial mating dance of the Karacovas. Spacestations scattered across the galaxies specifically built as - as ‘date’ locations. There’s a funfair that starts on Dren Seven and ends on Dren Eight, via a transmat monorail that does that whole ‘tunnel of love’ romantic thing.” He waved his free hand about vaguely. “Takes your photo and everything! Frames it for you and sends it to all your relatives in Christmas greeting cards! Well, not Christmas, necessarily. Various festive holidays. Anyway, you get the picture. Ha - literally! Get it? 'You get the picture!' Didn't even do that on purpose - ”

Rose narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you…”

“What?”

“Are you describing dates you’ve had with other people?”

“What?” He was baffled for a moment, then burst out laughing. “Don’t be daft!”

Rose huffed. “Seems like you’re an expert, that’s all. ‘Here’s what you could’ve had…’” she mumbled.

He stopped giggling. “I…well, I, er. I might have done a little research.”

“Why?”

“Because - I’m not good at this! Evidently! I brought you to _Margate!_ ”

“So?”

“So, you should be eating a seven course meal with the classical jazz of Louisa D’nov’lak playing in the background! Wearing a pretty dress and being waited on and - and - all that. Whilst watching fireworks imported from Deablo.”

Rose laughed. “I take it fireworks from Deablo are the best?”

“Yes!”

“Doctor.”

“…yes?” he said, less certainly.

“I don’t need any of that.”

“I know you don’t. That’s why you should have it. It’d be what you’d least expect and I -” He frowned as he realised. “I should’ve kept all that a secret and sprung it on you another day. See! I’ve let the cat out of the bag, now! Useless!”

“You’re not actually saying that you want to…take me on a date.” She said it with laughter in her voice, then she seemed to notice how uncomfortable he was and her smile slipped.

“I don’t know,” he murmured. “No. Yes.” He sat up, avoiding her eyes. “It’s complicated.”

She stroked his arm as she sat up too. “Several different answers, you just gave me.”

“I know,” he sighed, closing his eyes.

“Our…adventures, and quiet trips like this, and even just being on the TARDIS together. That’s all I need, yeah? All I want.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “Much better than watching you snog Lisa from Tesco’s or getting food poisoning, believe me.”

He shifted awkwardly. “I want to be…better,” he mumbled, feeling ridiculous.

“I just said. You _are_ better. Better than any boyfriend I’ve had or could have.”

“All right, ticked off better. But what about - ” He exhaled shakily. “More?”

“Same thing, innit?”

“No,” he said, voice soft. He pressed his lips to her forehead, because they were at the perfect angle to do so. “No, it’s not.”

Rose tilted her head up so that his lips could be at a perfect angle to touch hers, instead. He lingered before taking that step though, meeting her gaze, sharing breaths.

“Perfect date,” she said, eyes flitting between his nervously, “It’s gotta end with a perfect kiss, Doctor.”

He smiled. “Well, thanks for that. No pressure at all, then.”

She looked down. “Don’t do it if you don’t want to.”

“No, I meant…no pressure on me to make it good.” He coughed. “Or, well. ‘Perfect.’ I do. Want to, I mean.”

She shut him up, after that, which was probably just as well. He’d been waiting on her anyway, really, to make the first move - always had been. Easier that way. Felt more like giving in than giving up.

He wasn’t so sure about her, because she’d likely done the ‘perfect kiss to end the perfect date’ thing before, but the way it felt, her lips against his, the hesitancy, the nerves, disappearing almost instantly, and her tongue being right there, then in his mouth, sliding against his; her hands suddenly grasping his jacket lapels to draw herself into a better position, straddling him in one swift move, easier on her neck, _great_ for his lap; this was all, in his opinion, very perfect indeed.

Then, she pulled back, inhaling a deep breath, and he stared at her, feeling dazed. She giggled, then ran her hands through his hair as she kissed him again, and his arms finally got with the programme and wrapped around her, tucking her tightly against him. They kissed, and kissed, and then even he, with his respiratory bypass, needed a break.

“Rose,” he gasped, not really sure where he was going with it but feeling like he needed to breathe her name, not just air. “Rose, that, that was…” He blinked stupidly a few times. With a pleased smile on her face, she gave his hair one last ruffle, and then -

He blinked again, quickly. “Ow.” He rubbed at his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, stroking her hands down his neck, across his shoulders, making him shiver and almost distracting him from the soreness now present beneath his eyelids. “What is it?”

He opened one eye with a wince. “Sand.”

“Eh?”

“There was sand in my hair, from when I was lying down. Now it’s in my eyes.”

“Oh! Bugger, sorry!”

She looked so stricken about it that he laughed and wrapped his arms around her again. “Knew that was all going too well.”

“Sorry,” she said again, tilting his head and trying to peer in his eyes.

He shook his head and kissed her softly. “It’s okay. Tears’ll sort it. Natural lubrication.” He let his eyes well up and she gaped at him. “What?”

“Nothing. Just haven’t seen someone with that much control over their tear ducts before.”

After a few seconds of rapid blinking, the tiny grains of sand were gone and he beamed at her. “There, all better.”

She stroked her thumb against his cheeks, catching a runaway tear. “Never made someone cry on a first date before,” she joked.

“This isn’t our first date,” he said.

Rose rolled her eyes. “Told you already, I don’t need all the fancy stuff.” She poked his chest. “Especially not those creepy greeting cards you mentioned.”

He chuckled. “Well, all right. We’ll see. But no, I just meant - well. You said, before - a while back. About our first date.” She looked at him questioningly so he coughed and continued, “You know. The sun gets roasted, we have chips…”

She pressed her lips together in a feeble attempt to hide her smile. “You really count that?”

Nodding, he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I really do.”

Her arms looped around his neck. “Good.”

“Rose.”

“Mmm?”

“You’re still in my lap.”

“Oh, yeah. So I am.”

“I just wanted to point out that I like that development.”

“Mm, I’d noticed,” she said, and flashed him the wickedest grin he’d ever seen.

“So, er. Done the fish and chips on the beach, the stargazing, the perfect kiss. What’s next, then?”

She nudged his nose with hers, eyes full of mischief, and he considered that a short time ago, this evening, he’d pulled back from such a gesture, when it had been accidental. Now, it was a precursor to her mouth returning to his, and though he’d intended exactly none of this, tonight, bringing her here, he couldn’t bring himself to regret a moment.

Besides. Her kiss was an answer to his question. A ‘what do _you_ think?’ And he just so happened to have a whole host of very interesting ideas.

“This doesn’t get you out of taking me dancing, by the way,” Rose teased a little while later, as she linked her arm through his on their way back to the TARDIS. “No one needs a seven course dinner but Elvis? For a time traveller? That’s a must.”

“We can go right now, if you want.”

She gave him a funny look.

“What?”

“We’re a bit busy tonight.” 

“Are we?”

Sighing, Rose opened the TARDIS doors with her key, and dragged him in by his tie.

“Ohhh.”


End file.
